


did something bad

by lockerroomgoon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (or right), Catfishing, Dirty Talk, Feminization, M/M, Sexting, prank gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockerroomgoon/pseuds/lockerroomgoon
Summary: The first thing he hears when he walks into the locker room is, “Fuck you, Naz, my Tinder game is dope.”Like, Auston obviously deserves to get pranked just for using the word dope, let alone for being on Tinder, and Willy’s got a fucking perfect plan.





	did something bad

Willy’s never been particularly good at pranks. He’s not creative enough or perceptive enough to think up a way to really get someone. He usually just goes along with whatever hairbrained scheme Mitchy’s come up with. He thinks he’s got a good one here, though.

It’s not like he can pass up the opportunity, really, when the first thing he hears when he walks into the locker room is, “Fuck you, Naz, my Tinder game is _dope_.”

Like, Auston obviously deserves to get pranked just for using the word _dope_ , let alone for being on Tinder, and Willy’s got a fucking perfect plan.

It’s really easy to set up. Like, _really_ easy. Way too easy. It’s probably good that he’s doing this, actually. He’ll prank Auston _and_ teach him a lesson about catfishing. Two birds, one stone.

His friend Allison is hot and tiny and blonde and always up for a good joke, so he gets her to send him the pictures she would use on her Tinder profile. From there it’s nothing to set up the profile – Ally, 20, from Toronto.

He tries to set the preferences so that it’ll be easier to find Auston, but apparently there are _a lot_ of twenty-year-old dudes trying to get laid in the GTA. Go figure. He tells himself the payoff will be worth it, though, as he spends nearly two days swiping left on every fuckboy within a twenty-mile radius.

He’s so used to swiping left that he nearly fucks the whole thing up when Auston’s profile finally pops up. Auston’s pictures aren’t as douchey as they could be – at least he doesn’t have any Maple Leafs or Team USA gear on in any of them. Willy swipes right, and it immediately pops up that they’re connected. He figures it’s just a waiting game now, because he obviously isn’t going to be making the first move.

His phone buzzes with a Tinder message at ten past midnight, and he nearly sighs aloud. Of _fucking_ course Auston’s messaging chicks on Tinder at midnight. He checks the message, and then he does sigh aloud, because Auston’s self-proclaimed _dope_ Tinder game apparently just means messaging girls **_hey babe_.**

Willy almost wonders how the fuck Auston ever pulls with weak game like this, but he’s _Auston Matthews_ and this is _Toronto_ , so he will never, _ever_ have trouble finding someone to go home with.

He messages back **_Really? That’s your line_** _?_ because he feels like that’s what needs to be said, here.

Auston’s immediate response is **_well i was going to ask you to sit on my face but you seem like a nice girl so i toned it down just a bit._**

Willy chokes on the breath he was taking. He knows this is a hook-up app, or whatever, and that Auston is _Auston_ , but holy shit. Maybe this gets a little raunchier than he thought. He decides to play it safe and picks the least threatening part of that sentence to reply to.

**_What makes you think I’m a nice girl?_ **

It’s a few minutes of Willy being ridiculously nervous for no reason before Auston messages back, **_just had a feeling ;) you can be a bad girl for me if you want tho, i won’t tell_**

Jesus Christ, he really lays it on thick. Willy actually feels bad for all the girls that are subjected to this.

**_Is this how you talk to all the girls?_ **

**_i’m only talking to you, babe_ **

Christ. Willy knows it’s not true and he knows it’s a fucking game for Auston but for some reason it still kind of sparks something in his chest that Auston’s only talking to _him_. Or – uh – _her_.

**_You’re just so smooth, aren’t you?_ **

**_haha i try ;)_** is Auston’s reply, and then, **_is it working?_**

Jesus, he’s a cocky shit.

**_You tell me, do you think it’s working?_ **

**_well you’re not sitting on my face right now so obviously it’s not working as well as i had hoped_ **

Willy has to drop the phone, then, running a hand through his hair. Jesus, Auston doesn’t hold back. Willy’s pulse is racing and he can feel the heat in his cheeks and the pull in his gut. It’s getting… _weird_. He thinks if he keeps this up much longer he might get hard, and that’s – that’ s not – he can’t do that. He should delete the conversation. Delete the profile. Delete the app. Maybe just get a new phone altogether.

He can’t bring himself to do any of that though. He even replies again, even if it’s just, **_Alright, I’m going to bed, goodnight!_**

He’s way too eager to read Auston’s reply, **_sweet dreams, babe._**

“Okay,” he whispers into the quiet of the room. “Okay, okay, okay.”

This is fine. He can still salvage this, he didn’t say anything incriminating or weird. These would be decently funny screenshots to send to, like, Marns or Freddie. Or he can just drop the prank. Auston was probably messaging other girls at the same time, anyway. He’s probably on his way to one of their places right now. He probably won’t message Willy anymore.

 

Seeing Auston the next day at practice is a lot harder than he anticipated. Auston’s not raving about his _Tinder game_ or about any possible hook-ups he had last night, but he’s always _there_ , right in Willy’s line of sight, and it’s like Willy can hear Auston saying all the shit he sent to him last night. It’s easier to push it all away on the ice, but every time he hears Auston in the locker room all he can think about is that conversation. He’s not sure why he’s so caught up on it, but he decides he should probably stop the whole Tinder prank if it’s gonna make things weird.

Mitchy invites a bunch of them over after practice to watch some movie, and Willy doesn’t have anything better to do, so he goes. He gets there early enough to claim a recliner, popping the footrest up and enjoying not being squished on the couch like most of them are. Auston practically lives here, so Willy’s not surprised that he snags the other recliner.

About twenty minutes in, just as he’s starting to get bored with the movie, his phone buzzes in his pocket with a notification from, _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Tinder.

**_what’s up?_ **

No points for originality there, but at least it’s better than last night.

 ** _Just hanging out, wbu?_** Willy replies automatically, before he remembers that he was supposed to stop.

**_watching a movie, thinking about you ;)_ **

He was supposed to stop.

He peeks over at Auston, just to see if he’s giving anything away. Auston’s sprawled across his recliner, posture open and easy as he lazily scrolls through his phone and half-heartedly looks up at the TV every once and a while.

He wonders how bold Auston would be, in a room with a bunch of their teammates. He wants to find out.

**_What about me?_ **

He can’t watch Auston’s reaction when he gets the message, that’d be too obvious, but he keeps sneaking quick glances across the room at him.

**_you in my bed ;)_ **

Willy’s fingers are moving without his permission when they type out, **_Oh yeah?_**

He stares resolutely at the television until his phone vibrates again. He takes a few quick breaths before looking, and he audibly chokes when he reads **_yeah baby, wanna get my mouth all over you_** _._

“You good, Willy?” Mitch asks from the couch, and in the few seconds it takes Willy to look over and nod at Mitch, his phone buzzes again.

He’s almost too scared to look at it, but the devil on his shoulder wins out yet again.

**_let’s hang out tonight_ **

Willy stares at it for a while, mostly wondering how often Auston coordinates hookups in the middle of team bonding. After he gets over that, though, he realizes that he either needs to come up with an excuse not to meet up or, better yet, just stop the whole thing now. He’s seen the full scope of Auston’s _Tinder game_ , from start to finish. The prank is over, even if he doubts he’ll _ever_ show anyone these messages. It’s run its course, and it’s probably crossing, like, twenty lines anyway.

**_I can’t tonight, I’ve got work stuff_.**

He wants to stop examining the reasons behind his own actions. He’s becoming less and less sure that there even are reasons behind his actions.

**_boo :( can’t skip for me?_ **

Of course Auston’s persistent. Willy sneaks another peak over at him on the couch and nearly chokes on his breath again when Auston looks over, catches his eye, and lifts an eyebrow at him. Willy sticks his tongue out at him and quickly looks back to the TV, heart beating a mile a minute.

Two more buzzes, and he hates himself for looking.

**_i could make it worth your while, baby ;)_ **

**_i’d eat you out until you’re shaking for me, then fuck you so good you’ll be screaming_ **

Willy thinks he mutters, “Gotta piss,” as he gets up, but he’s honestly not sure. He’s not worried about being rude as much as he’s worried about the very real boner starting to tent his jeans. He’s fully hard when he crashes into Mitchy’s bathroom, the words playing over in his head again and again and again. There’s no way he’s gonna be able to calm down, so he flips the fan on and shoves his jeans down his thighs, one hand on his dick and the other clasped over his mouth.

He’s got this image in his head of Auston eating someone out, and it’s so fucking hot. He bets Auston’s good at it, thorough and attentive and fucking devastating. His legs start shaking about thirty seconds in, then somehow the image in his head morphs from Auston eating _someone_ out to Auston eating _him_ out, and suddenly he’s coming into his hand faster than he has in a while.

He flushes the toilet and cleans himself off, refusing to look at himself in the mirror. Before he leaves the bathroom he turns his phone off and slides it into his back pocket.

He spends the rest of the movie keeping his eyes firmly trained on the television and cuts out immediately after it’s done, feigning tiredness. He doesn’t look over at Auston as he waves goodbye to the boys and gets the hell out of there, straight-up bolting.

 

He doesn’t puke when he gets home, but it’s a near thing. He spends _hours_ pacing back and forth in his bedroom, door locked and phone still off.

He jerked off to a teammate.

He jerked off to a teammate who was sexting him.

He jerked off to a teammate who was sexting him because he was, essentially, catfishing him.

There’s really no good way to look at it, and he has to get his shit together before the game tomorrow.

 

Morning skate is blessedly smooth. He keeps to himself, and no one seems to notice how he can’t quite meet his liney’s eyes. He’s fine. He can get through this. He can get _over_ this. Auston doesn’t even know. It’s _fine._

He makes food at home and he’s _fine_. He lies down for a nap and he’s _fine_.

He wakes up hard and uncomfortable and he’s still fucking _fine_.

He gets his hand on his dick, slow because he can take his time. He thinks about his last hookup, but he can’t quite remember what she looked like. What she sounded like. What she _felt_ like. He met her in a bar, he knows. Auston was chatting up her friend. _Auston_.

Auston’s big, broad shoulders. Auston flushed from exertion and a little sweaty. Auston’s hands. Auston’s _mouth_. On him. Licking into him, getting him wet and a little sloppy, getting him _ready_.

He has to turn his head and bite the pillow when he comes, scared he’ll yell Auston’s name.

There’s a half-second after he comes down where he thinks he might cry, overwhelmed and maybe a little scared. Maybe more than a little, even. He fights through it, though, getting up and into a shower and trying to think of _anything else_. When he gets out, he deletes the Tinder app from his phone. They have a game tonight, and he has to find a way to be okay.

If that _way_ is avoiding Auston at all costs off the ice, then so be it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It takes exactly a week of avoiding Auston in person and jerking off to him in private for it all to come crashing down around him. He’s making dinner when there’s a knock at the door. As soon as he opens it, Auston is there, bullying his way inside.

“Whatcha making?” Auston asks, making his way to the kitchen as Willy stands frozen by the door.

“I – uh – what are you doing here, Matts?” Willy fumbles out.

Auston just shrugs and says, “Hanging out. Feels like we haven’t even talked in forever.”

Willy can _feel_ his hands shaking. He doesn’t say anything as he turns back to the chicken he’s cooking in the pan. It’s quiet for a few minutes as Willy transfers it to a plate and throws the pan in the sink to wash later. When he turns back, Auston is leaning against his counter, staring at him.

“ _What?_ ” he asks, probably more defensive than is necessary.

“You’re being fucking weird, man. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Willy snaps, grabbing his plate and heading to the living room. Maybe if he turns the TV on Auston will shut up.

No dice. Auston sits down next to him on the couch and punches him on the shoulder.

“C’mon, Willy. Something’s up,” he presses. “Is it a chick?”

Willy chokes on the piece of chicken in his mouth.

“Holy shit, did you catch _feelings_ for someone?” Auston laughs.

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, _no_.”

“What happened? Did you get curved?”

“ _No_ ,” he huffs, setting his plate and fork down on the table.

Auston laughs again, says, “It’s chill, dude, I got totally iced by this chick on Tinder a few days ago. Like, one minute we’re messaging and she’s totally fucking into it and then I ask if she wants to hang out and she goes fucking ghost.”

Willy can feel his heart beating against his ribs. His hands are shaking so hard now it _has_ to be noticeable.

“She was hot, too. Short and blonde, totally my type. I –”

“Oh my god you need to shut the fuck up,” Willy interrupts, before he has a full-out panic attack.

“Woah, what the fuck is up with you, dude?” Auston asks.

“ _I’m_ the fucking girl,” Willy practically shouts.

“What does that even mean?”

“ _I’m_ the girl that curved you, or whatever. I thought it would be funny to, like, see how you talk to girls on Tinder. I thought it was a prank, and then it… It got out of hand.”

“I – but – I –,” Auston sputters for a minute, but he finally lands on, “We _sexted_.”

Willy can’t look up from where he’s staring at his shoes as he says, “I said it got out of hand.”

Auston’s quiet for a minute, and Willy’s just waiting for him to get up and leave, but it never happens.

His voice is soft but infinitely calmer when he asks, “Were you into it?”

“No – I – it wasn’t – I, um…” Willy trails off.

“Jesus Christ, Willy, fucking _look at me_.” He waits until Willy drags his gaze up, and then asks again, “Were you into it?”

Willy doesn’t have to answer because he knows the look on his face is giving him away.

“Well,” Auston breathes out, and suddenly he’s so close Willy can feel the heat coming off of him. Willy doesn’t flinch when Auston’s hand comes up to his face, but it’s only because he doesn’t see it coming. When Auston cups his cheek and turns him to so their facing one another, Willy holds his breath. Auston’s grinning as he continues, “Now I know you’re not a good girl, huh?”

Willy’s mouth drops open from – shock? fear? arousal? He doesn’t know. Auston must like it, though, because he uses his thumb to trace Willy’s bottom lip gently as he leans in, his lips close to Willy’s ear.

“Are you gonna be a bad girl for me, baby?”

Willy’s never been so turned on in his life and he’s still not sure it’s not some huge joke. He whimpers out an approximation of a _yes_ just as Auston presses a kiss just under his ear. Auston uses his grip on Willy’s jaw to tug him into a dirty kiss, tongue dipping in immediately as his free hand slides up Willy’s thigh.

Willy’s not so much kissing as he is being kissed, and he’s distressingly into it. Even more so when Auston tugs him into his lap, his thighs split around Auston’s big body, both of Auston’s hands groping at his ass.

Willy has to break the kiss to breathe, eventually, and Auston takes the opportunity to get both of their shirts off, his own first and then Willy’s.

“No bra, huh, baby? You really are a bad girl.” He grins, and it looks almost predatory. Willy never thought he would be okay with being prey – never thought he would _want_ it.

Auston’s a fast worker, and as soon as Willy’s shirt is off he’s biting and sucking at a nipple while one of his hands dips into the back of Willy’s jeans. Auston’s _everywhere_ , and Willy’s so overwhelmed he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Auston – Auston, _fuck_ ,” Willy moans, hands sliding up into Auston’s hair.

“Yeah, babe,” Auston murmurs, and in a second Willy’s on his back on the couch, Auston over him, tugging off his own jeans. Willy starts to squirm out of his, but he’s distracted by Auston’s cock, hard and heavy and _right fucking there_.

It’s not – he’s never, before. Never looked. Never thought. Not until a week ago. But he _wants it_.

“Auston, goddamnit, get me out of my pants,” he groans, struggling to push his jeans down past his thighs. Auston’s quick to help, and then he’s on his back, and Auston’s on top of him, and they’re naked.

If he had time to think, he might have time to freak out, but Auston’s back to kissing him quick and hard and then he’s pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna eat you out, just like I said I would,” against Willy’s lips. Willy has a full-body reaction to that, shuddering down to his toes. Auston pulls back, nudging his hips until Willy gets the message and rolls over onto his hands and knees.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so hot,” Auston groans, hands kneading at Willy’s ass. Willy doesn’t even have time to be nervous before Auston’s spreading him wide and getting his mouth on him, licking around the rim. Willy can’t contain the little moans and whimpers he’s making. Auston’s just like Willy knew he would be – _devastating_. He takes a minute to suck on Willy’s rim, kissing it like a mouth, and Willy has to drop his face into the couch, his arms are shaking so much. He screams Auston’s name when he finally pushes his tongue inside, spit dripping down his crack, everything wet and sloppy and so fucking hot. He’s so fucking close from just this, just Auston’s mouth on his ass, and it’s so intense.

“Auston, _fuck_ , I’m so – I’m so close, holy shit,” he whines, not knowing if he wants Auston to let up or go harder. Auston makes the choice for him, though, pushing his tongue in again and reaching for his dick. He gets maybe two good strokes in before Willy is screaming through an orgasm, shaking and coming with Auston’s tongue in his ass.

He’s still shaking when Auston gentles him onto his back. Auston’s still over him, still hard, and Willy somehow still _wants_.

“Fuck me,” he whispers, pulling Auston down, closer.

Auston hesitates for the first time.

“Baby, I – we can’t, we don’t have anything.”

“Please,” Willy whimpers, even though he knows Auston’s right.

“ _Baby_ ,” Auston breathes out again, dropping his head down to Willy’s shoulder. “Here, we’ll,” he says, but he doesn’t finish the sentence. He nudges Willy until he flips over again, keeping his knees on either side of Willy’s thighs and pushing them tight together. Willy can’t help his gasp when Auston slots his dick in between his thighs. It’s slick – from his come, from Auston’s mouth, from their sweat, from Auston’s leaking dick – and it’s close enough to what Willy feels like he _needs_.

“Gonna fuck you,” Auston growls out, starting up a punishing pace that has his hips slapping against Willy’s ass.

Auston runs his mouth the entire time he’s fucking Willy’s thighs - about how hot Willy is, about what a bad girl he’s being, calling him _baby_ \- and if Willy could get it up, he would be so incredibly hard.

Auston’s thrusts get sloppy when he gets close, and he pulls back to finish himself off with his hand, groaning loud as he comes all over Willy’s ass and thighs.

“Holy shit,” Auston pants, and Willy feels him sink back into the couch. He drops his own head down into his forearms, unsure of what to do next. After a minute, Auston slaps his ass and laughs, “That just took the spot for number one Tinder hookup, for sure.”

“Matts, I – ” Willy starts, but he’s cut off.

“Let’s go shower first, then we can figure out how to get some lube.”

Auston sounds so sure it’s easy to just go with it. On the way to the shower, Auston grabs his ass again and leans down into his ear to whisper, “Told you my Tinder game’s dope.”

Willy can’t even hit him, because he thinks he might be getting hard again.


End file.
